BANCROFT 
LIBRARY 

•o    . 

THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


\ 


BANCROFT 
LIBRARY 

•o 

THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

31ft  of 

Mrs.    A.   R.    Jaffa 


ere 


HISTORIC  AND  PROPHETIC, 


REV.    O.    W.    GATES, 


BEFORE 


1  (BUfflflf  iiai  SDEJKf  f 


—  OF— 
JP  O  I  W  T      I,  O  M  A     K  K  M  I  K  A  It  Y  , 

Snn  Diego,  Cal.,  August  12th,  1875. 


SAN  DIEGO: 

WORLD"  BOOK  AND  JOfe  PRINTING  HOUSE. 
1875. 


?£f 


S2 

X 


CORRESPONDENCE. 


REV.  O.  W.  GATES— 

Dear  Sir:  The  young  ladies  of  tbe  "Cliothean 
Society"  request  for  publication  a  copy  of  your  Poem— 
"  Glimpses  of  San  Diego,  Historic  and  Prophetic,"  delivered 
before  the  Society  in  Morton's  Hall  on  tbe  Second  Anniver 
sary  of  Point  Loma  Seminary,  August  12th,  1875; 

VERNA  OVERBAUGH,^ 
G.  SHELLENBERGER,   (•  Committee. 
LIN  A  SCHUMACHER,    ) 
SAN  DIEGO,  CAL.,  August  20,  1875. 


MlSSES    OVERBAUGH,    SHELLENBERGER    AND    SCHUMACHER:— 

In  reply  to  your  note  requesting  for  publication  a  copy  of 
the  Poem  read  before  your  Society  at  the  Anniversary  of 
Point  Loma  Seminary,  permit  me  to  say,  it  was  written 
without  any  thought  of  its  coming  before  the  public  in 
printed  form;  but  being  assured  that  your  request  expresses 
the  wish  of  many  others,  I  will  comply. 

Very  respectfully, 

O.  W."  GATES. 
SAN  DIEGO,  CAL.,  August  25,  1875. 

[ii] 


6  3-: 


U  VV  -Ht 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  Poem,  friends,  that  you  expect  to  hear, 

May  well.  I  think,  be  called  the  child  of  fear  ! 

When  asked  to  write  in  verse,  I  was  afraid 

My  truant  muse  beyond  recall  had  strayed; 

No  sooner  subject  had  I  sought  and  chose, 

Than  fear  advised,  ''you'd  better  write  in  prose." 

I  pushed  ahead,  but  fear  assailed  my  mind— 

"  Good  poetrjT  is  very  hard  to  find." 

I  made  some  progress — doubtless  like  a  snail — 

"  Too  slow,"  cried  fear,  "in  quantity  you'll  fail;" 

Work  told;  it  always  tells,  when  good,  and  true, 

But  fear  reproached,  "  you  never  will  get  through;' 

I  did,  nathless,  look!  dou-bt  it  if  you  will; 

Then  fear  affirmed  "you've  made  too  big  a  pill;" 

I  fear  I  have,  but  still  must  frankly  own, 

Just  how  to  split  the  pill  I  have  not  known; 

Upon  whichever  part  my  choice  may  hit, 

You'll  wish,  I  fear,  that  that  were  marked  "omit."— 

Enough  of  this;  another  thread  I'll  spin, 

Lest  fear  plague  you  that  I  cannot  begin. 


GLIMPSES  OF  SAN  DIEGO. 


DEVELOPMENT   IN    CREATION    AND    HISTORY    GRADUAL. 

Who  patient  scans  with  scrutinizing  gaze 

The  rock-kept  records  of  primeval  days, 

"Will  find  this  key  unlocks  the  covert  plan: 

By  each  creative  act  the  Lord  foreshadowed  man. 

So  he  who  reads  the  lesser,  outspread  page 

Where  Clio  writes,  as  age  succeeds  to  age, 

Of  busy  brains  concocting  schemes  untold, 

Of  roving  feet  in  search  of  hidden  gold, 

Of  direful  War  and  all  the  woe  he  brings, 

Of  smiling  Peace  and  all  the  songs  she  sings, 

Of  nations  wrapped  in  all  the  pomp  of  power, 

Or  cast  to  earth  to  rise  again  no  more, 

Of  kingdoms  rent  and  empires  on  the  wane, 

Their  glory  gone  and  gone  their  right  to  reign, 

Of  hostile  claims  maintained  by  clash  of  swords, 

Or  noble  aims  advanced  by  worthy  words, 

Can,  in  the  net-work  of  commingling  lines. 

Find  traces  plain  and  undeceiving  signs, 

That  grand  events,  infolding  good  sublime 

Are  seen  in  outline  long  before  their  time, 

But  wait,  like  buds,  concealing  embryo  blooms, 

Till  Winter  dies,  and  Spring,  reviving,  comes. 


Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

CALIFORNIA    AN    EXAMPLE. 

Hail  California!-     Karne  of  ma^ic  spell, 

What  tongue  first  spoke  thee,  tongue  shall  never  tell. 

What  language  claims  thee.  gave  thee  to  the  race, 

No  skill  linguistic  has  the  power  to  trace. 

Thy  hand  may  reach  to  earliest  days  of  yore, 

And  lay  its  grasp  on  hoary  Aryan  lore. 

Thy  germ  may  come  from  old  Hebraic  shoots, 

Or  draw  its  life  from  Greek  or  Roman  roots, 

May  hold  in  trust  some  Aztec  form  or  rite. 

Or  tell  some  tale  of  Mexican  delight; 

But  ah!   the  secret  thou  hast  kept  thine  o-wn, 

Locked  in  thy  heart — and  never  to  be  known. 

We  murmur  not,  nor  care  whence  rose  thy  name, 

'Twill  shine  undimaned  upon  the -scroll  of  fame, 

Its  lustre  brightening  as  the  years  go  by, 

Like  ruddy  East  when  morning  paints  the  sky. 

So  hail,  once  more,  queen  regnant  of  the  West; 

A  world  attentive  waits  for  thy  behest, 

Looks  where  thy  fields  are  piled  with  sacks  for  sheaves, 

Where  drop  thy  fruits  as  drop  the  Autumn  leaves; 

Turns  where  thy  sons  thy  golden  veins  explore, 

And  draw  in  streams  thy  wealth  of  long-kept  ore, 

Then  walks  thy  plains  where  countless  flowers  arise, 

And  gem  thy  face  as  stars  thy  peerless  skies. 

Alone,  unmatched,  just  like  thy  giant  trees, 

Thy  fame  shall  fly  on  wings  of  every  breeze, 

Sail  with  the- ships  that  plow  the  ocean  plain, 

Fly  on  the  track  of  each  outgoing  train, 


Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

Speak  in  thy  treasures  as  they  find  their  way, 
In  streams  increasing  every  passing  day, 
Leap  with  each  spark  that  thrills  electric  wires 
To  light  afresh  hope's  half-extinguished  fires. 


TRIBUTE   TO    CALIFORNIA. 

But  why  sing  on?  or  why  this  strain  prolong? 

A  theme  so  vast  demands  a  nobler  song. 

Like  her  long-lived,  decay-resisting  palms, 

The  land  of  David  lives  in  David's  psalms. 

Greece  lives  in  Homer;  Virgil  rose  and  spoke 

For  martial  Rome;  then  Dante  came  and  woke 

For  his  loved  Italy,  sad,  deathless  strains, 

As  Ossian  sang  his  Scandinavian  plains, 

Or  bard  of  Avon  photographed  his  age, 

And  latest  time  will  read  the  pictured  page,  u  ,t»n 

Thou  too,  broad  land,  some  time  shalt  find  a  tongue 

To  tell  the  world  what  Harie  has  left  unsung. 

So,  mother  State,  accept  our  filial  vow, 

And  bind  this  garland  on  thy  shining  brow. 

Long  may  thy  borders  rest  in  perfect  peace; 

As  years  roll  on,  may  worth  and  wealth  increase, 

May  faithful  sons  through  all  thy  length  be  found; 

May  love-lit  homes  on  every  hand  abound; 

May  learning  rear  for  thee  her  shielding  walls, 

And  art,  with  science,  deck  thy  classic  halts; 

May  truth  divine,  spread  wide  and  far  her  light, 

And  holy  faith  keep  all  thy  altars  bright, 


Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

Nor  chance  appear  for  error,  wrong,  or  crime, 
To  loose  thy  grasp  on  destiny  sublime. 
Thus  live,  O  State,  secure  from  every  ill, 
So  large  an  orb  our  Muse  despairs  to  fill, 
But,  venturing  less,  for  skiffs  keep  near  the  shore, 
Will  trace  the  men  and  fading  scenes  of  yore, 
And  mark  the  steps  of  joy  and  now  of  woe, 
Whence  sprang  this  town  a  century  ago. 
Then,  should  our  Muse  gain  courage  as  she  sings, 
Her  eye  grow  clear,  and  strong  her  unused  wings, 
She  may  attempt,  led  on  by  faith's  strong  hand, 
To  tell  in  verse  your  later  "promised  land." 

SAN    DIEGO. 

Hail,  San  Diego!  first  of  all  the  names. 
That  hold  in  trust  a  mission's  ancient  claims. 
'Neath  thine,  no  doubt,  some  mystic  volume  lies, 
Its  pages  hid  from  all  inquiring  eyes, 
Securely  clasped  its  lid  no  hand  may  lift, 
Bequeathed  to  time,  time  guards  her  sacred  gift, 
A  secret  safe,  since  question  her  who  may, 
She  answers  not;  nor  motions  "yea,"  or  "nay." 

^     JESUITS. 

Not  thus  concealed  is  every  track  and  trace 
Of  those  stern  men  who  hied  from  place  to  place, 
To  danger  deaf,  not  counting  earthly  loss, 
Their  zeal  aflame  to  bear  and  plant  the  cross; 


Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

Bound  by  their  oath  to  bravely  do  and  dare, 

They  marched  abroad  for  labor  anywhere. 

Ease,  pleasure,  comfort,  all  they  freely  gave 

To  live  and  serve,  or  fill  an  early  grave. 

Fanatics  were  they,  well,  no  doubt  'tis  true, 

But  e'en  from  Jesuits  hold  not  honor  due. 

Go  where  you  will  through  earth's  extended  zones, 

You  find  the  mounds  where  rest  their  wasting  bones; 

Look  where  you  will  some  footprint  will  appear 

Of  Jesuit  monk  fulfilling  his  career. 

LOYOLA. 

Be  patient,  friends,  chide  not  these  long  delays, 

On  men  and  scenes  of  past  and  buried  days; 

The  Jesuit  name  calls  up  the  daring  man, 

Founder  at  once  and  leader  of  the  clan, 

The  monk  Loyola,  friend  in  youth  of  kings, 

Hence  spared  the  ills  that  want  to  many  brings, 

A  chevalier,  devoted  to  the  dance, 

Wild  sport  his  joy,  with  bow,  and  sword,  and  lance, 

Ambitious  too,  for  place  among  the  names. 

That  fame  repeats  and  gratitude  proclaims 

Her  sacred  trust,  her  treasure,  and  her  pride, 

While  time  endures  and  rolling  centuries  glide. 

Loyola  fought  in  threatened  citadel, 

As  heroes  fight,  and,  fighting,  wounded  fell. 

For  many  days  hung  even  poised  the  strife 

'Twixt  frowning  death  and  half  extinguished  life; 


Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

Life  held  the  field;   his  rallied  forces  hurled 

The  grim  assailant  to  his  own  dark  world. 

How  changed  the  man!   how  changed  his  aims  and  cared! 

From  carnal  joys,  he  turns  to  fasts  and  prayers, 

From  wealth  and  pomp,  and  royal  courts  and  halls, 

He  flies  to  hermit  cell  in  cloistered  walla, 

And  there,  in  gloom  as  deep  as  starless  night, 

Hie  vow  is  made  and  he  enrolled  a  knight. 

All  that  he  has  of  genius,  influence,  fame, 

All  that  he  hopes  by  sacrifice  to  gain, 

To  Virgin,  Pope,  and  Romish  Church  are  given; 

Their  favor  won,  he  asks  no  other  heaven" 

Let  them  but  speak,  his  hand  the  sword  shall  draw, 

Their  uttered  word  shall  be  his  "higher  law." 

The  work  assigned  no  scruples  shall  oppose; 

He  merits  most,  who  most  intolerance  shows. 

Misguided  man!  O  had'st  thou  found  the  streams 

Of  living  truth,  in  place  of  mocking  dreams, 

O  had'st  thou  learned  of  Christ  to  seek  and  save, 

What  fadeless  light  had  shone  above  thy  grave; 

What  garlands  fresh,  of  memory's  choicest  flowers, 

Had  kept  thy  name  embalmed  for  us  and  ours! 

LOYOLA'S  SONS  AS  FOOTBALLS. 

In  sport  at  football,  'tis  the  aim  of  all 

To  hit  and  drive  the  unresisting  ball. 

In  kindred  games  by  men  and  nations  played, 

Loyola's  sons  have  oft  been  footballs  made, 


Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

Tossed  hither,  thither,  never  let  alone, 
In  favor  now,  now  exiled  and  unknown. 
E'en  father  Pope,  and  holy  mother  Church, 
Though  rather  slow  and  often  in  the  lurch, 
Have  had  a  fancy  for  this  stirring  game, 
And  kept  it  up  till  somewhat  bruised  and  lame. 


FRANCISCANS   IN    LOWER    CALIFORNIA. 

In  such  a  game  played  on  the  lower  coast, 

This  Jesuit  ball  across  the  line  was  tossed 

By  sons  of  Rome,  who,  masters  to  command, 

By  right  of  might,  enjoyed  the  conquered  land. 

Charles  Third,  of  Spain, — of  course  he  could  not  err, — 

By  royal  word  made  haste  to  grant  transfer 

Of  missions,  buildings,  flocks  and  herds,  and  land, 

To  favored  fathers  of  Saint  Francis'  bund, 

Who,  holding  fast  their  rich  and  ill  got  store, 

Unsatisfied,  were  reaching  out  for  more. 

Hence,  as  they  wrought,  their  thought  to  Northward  flew 

To  broader  fields,  to  scenes  both  strange  and  new. 

Nor  can  they  rest;  they  hear  a  sovereign  word, 

"  Go  plant  the  cross  where  Christ  was  never  heard." 

Like  soldiers  true,  they  ask  for  no  delay; 

At  order  given,  they  rise  and  march  away, 

Some  to  the  ships  to  lade  the  needful  store, 

While  some,  in  bands  will  march  along  the  ahore. 


Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

VOYAGE   AND    MARCH. 

Scarce  loosed  from  bonds,  o'er  paths  no  eye  can  see, 

Their  loaded  ships,  strong  camels  of  the  sea, 

Track  watery  wastes,  more  treacherous  than  the  sands, 

That  hold  entombed  the  wealth  of  Bedouin  bands. 

Not  long  had  breezes  filled  their  hoisted  sails, 

When  ocean's  wrath  'woke  furious  storms  and  gales, 

Which,  at  command,  their  onward  course  oppose, 

As  army  waves  resist  invading  foes. 

Disease  and  death,  wolves  lurking  everywhere, 

Hung  on  their  track,  with  angry  howl  and  glare, 

As  days  went  by  and  nights  on  slow  wings  flew, 

And,  in  their  greed,  full  many  a  victim  slew. 

Want  too,  a  fiend,  as  cruel  as  the  grave, 

Fought  full  of  rage  these  voyagers  on  the  wave. 

What  wonder  then  that  most  were  snatched  away, 

And  stiff,  and  still,  in  ocean's  bosom  lay? 

And  when  on  land,  the  muster  roll  was  read, 

Silence  replied,  "enrolled  among  the  dead?" 

What  of  the  march  from  Villacata  led. 

With  father  Crespo  as  its  sacred  head? 

The  ills  endured,  the  trials  on  the  way, 

Were  transient  things,  departing  with  each  day. 

One  fact  remains;  no  change  shall  it  efface; 

Your  city's  name,  named  then  their  resting  place. 

A  choice  well  made.     Ah,  name  that  cannot  die! 

Take,  San  Diego,  take  thy  destiny! 


Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

Claim  tbou  thy  right,  can  aught  thy  right  debar? 
Bide  thou  thy  time,  can  it  be  distant  far? 
Demand  thy  throne,  made  thine  by  sure  bequest, 
And  reign  a  queen  unrivalled  East  and  West  ! 


FATHERS    PICTURED. 

Those  mission  fathers!    Ah!  I  see  them  now, 
Castilian  firmness  lined  on  every  brow, 
Of  stately  mien,  whereon  was  plainest  trace 
Of  strength  Iberian,  blent  with  Moorish  grace, 
Robust  of  frame,  strong,  hardy,  full  of  zeal, 
Courageous,  cool,  with  curbed  and  conquered  will, 
Endurance  speaking  in  each  steady  eye; 
The  nerve  is  theirs  all  danger  to  defy; 
Their  faces  glow  with  fires  of  kindly  thought, 
Their  souls  aspire  to  deeds  unselfish  wrought, 
Their  lives  are  simple,  conscientious,  true, 
Their  virtues  shine  with  such  a  pleasing  hue. 
As  hides  in  part,  but  gives  no  just  excuse, 
For  errors  held,  and  power's  prolonged  abuse. 
Without  attaining  life's  sublimest  plan, 
They  yet  did  good  and  served  their  brother  man. 
Well,  earnest  men,  our  song  ungrudging  pays, 
Your  clouded  worth  its  proper  meed  of  praise. 
The  breadth  and  scope  of  love-awakened  powers 
Were  then  unknown.     Your  age  was  not  as  ours. 


10 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

QUERY. 

What  if  those  men  of  English  pilgrim  stock. 
Who  first  set  foot  on  ice  bound  Plymouth  rock, 
And  faced  serene,  such  crushing  Winter  woes, 
As  want,  and  frost,  disease  and  driving  snows, 
Who  wrung  their  food  from  hard  and  rocky  soil, 
By  sweat  of  face  and  never  resting  toil, 
And  knew  no  good  that  was  not  dearly  bought, 
Nor  held  a  prize  for  which  they  had  not  fought. 
Had  passed  Point  Loma,  that  December  day, 
And  moored  the  Mayflower  in  this  peaeefuf  bay, 
The  shore  and  sea  in  sunshine  all  aglow, 
While  yon  tall  heads  wore  only  locks  of  snow, 
And  then,  from  hence,  had  found  their  way  abroad, 
To  plant  their  schools  and  give  the  living  word? 
Ah,  well — what  if? — It  is  not  wrong  to  guess, 
This  chosen  race,  led  through  the  wilderness, 
And  thus  made  pure  by  their  Ilefiner's  hand, 
Received  in  trust  this  Canaan  as  their  land, 
Prepared  to  give  whatever  spot  they  trod, 
To  equal  rights,  Soul  liberty,  and  God. 

MAY. 

May,  mild,  sweet  May,o'er  all  the  fields  is  queen; 
The  flowers,  her  maids,  wear  robes  of  gold  and  green; 
Young  life  keeps  watch  beside  her  ancient  throne, 
And  pays  thereat  its  sovereignty  alone. 


11 
Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

Her  herald,  beauty,  waits  her  word  to  fly 

A  glad  evangel  to  the  earth  and  sky. 

Her  ministers  of  state  are  tali  and  bearded  trees, 

Unbent  by  age,  majestic,  yet  at  ease; 

Her  choral  bands  of  music  and  of  song 

Wake  sweetest  notes  and  then  those  notes  prolong, 

While  tar  abroad,  her  martial  host  appears 

On  dress  parade,  the  sage,  with  lifted  spears. 

May,  thus  enthroned,  with  ease  and  queenly  grace, 

Spoke  welcome  words  and  gave  the  fathers  place. 

"Go  seek  the  spot  by  nature  made  most  fair, 

Plant  there  your  cross,  rear  up  your  altars  there, 

My  sister  queens,  of  equal  rank  and  power, 

Will  each  approve,  and  each  her  blessings  shower." 

Long  live  these  queens!  Their  gifts  unstinted  fall. 

By  Wealth's  abode,  and  Poverty's  thatched  wall. 

Since  first  the  fathers  in  Saint  Francis'  name. 

O'er  yon  fair  vale,  spread  out  their  patron's  claim, 

Each  queen, in  turn,  one  hundred  times  and  more, 

Has  held  her  court  and  ruled  this  sunny  shore. 

AT  THE  MISSION. 

Ah!    here  we  stand  by  mission  walls  first  piled, 
And  scan  the  scenes  that  on  their  builders  smiled. 
Say,  O  ye  plains,  that  now  before  me  lie, 
Were  ye  more  fair  to  their  enraptured  eye? 
And  ye  glad  hills,  must  ye  in  truth  confess, 
Your  robes  have  lost  some  charm  of  loveliness? 


12 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

O  monarch  mountains,  say,  if  e'er  than  now, 

Did  richer  gems  adorn  your  sun-lit  brow? 

How  could  the  crown  my  wondering  eyes  behold. 

To  others  seem  more  like  illumined  gold? 

Ye  skies  above,  we  lift  our  voice  to  you, 

Has  one  shade  faded  from  your  arch  of  blue? 

Or  Time's  rough  touch  been  able  once  to  mar. 

The  diamond  glisten  of  a  single  star? 

O  ye  bright  clouds  of  chalcedony  mist, 

And  you,  ye  argosies,  of  amethyst, 

And  ye,  of  amber,  with  your  sails  all  set, 

Borne  slow  along  through  isles  of  violet, 

Did  banners  brighter  ever  greet  the  breeze, 

Than  now  ye  wave  above  the  ether  seas? 

And  thou,  old  Ocean,  last  to  thee  we  seek, 

Say,  hast  thou  changed?  lift  up  thy  voice  and  speak! 

But  why  the  need?    A  soul  that  loved  thee  well, 

Had  genius'  tongue  and  could  thy  secrets  tell, 

Has  sung  thy  song,  unequaled,  unsurpassed, 

in  strains  sublime,  that  must  all  change  out-last, 

"Time  writes  no  wrinkle  on  thine  azure  brow, 

As  at  creation's  dawn  thourollest  now." 

EARLY  SCENES. 

Turn,  truant  Thought,  awhile  to  pensive  ways; 
Turn  roving  eye,  and  on  these  ruins  gaze. 
A  pall  of  sadness  hangs  on  every  part, 
A  voice  of  grief  appeals  to  every  heart, 


13 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 


For  ruins  speak; — in  tones  inspired  of  woe, 

Of  wasted  lives,  of  hopes  and  homes  laid  low, 

Of  buried  thrones,  of  kings  and  kingdoms  crushed, 

Of  cities  waste,  their  mirth  and  music  hushed, 

Of  sacred  fanes,  deserted,  plundered,  rent, 

And  all  they  held  to  dark  oblivion  sent. 

Beside  these  walls  that  harsh  decay  has  marred, 

Within  these  rooms  all  seamed  and  rudely  scarred, 

Along  these  paths  whose  course  we  scarce  can  trace, 

Beneath  these  palms  of  solitary  grace, 

In  olive  groves,  where  kindly  nature  weaves 

Her  curious  web  of  yearly  fruit  and  leaves, 

Here  at  the  pool,  all  broken,  torn  and  dried, 

How  like  the  men   whose  graves  are  at  its  side! 

Where'er  we  turn  by  meditation  led. 

The  past  comes  back,  and  with  it  those  long  dead. 

I  see  them  now: — Thought's  eye,  time  never  dims; 

I  hear  their  songs,  their  sacred  chants  and  hymns, 

I  stand  among  them  joined  in  friendly  clans, 

Note  their  debates  and  how  they  form  their  plans, 

I  heed  the  father  chosen  to  command, 

Assign  the  service  suited  to  each  hand, 

Make  known  his  will — the  law  that  each  obeys, 

With  ready  zeal,  nor  murmers  nor  delays. 

See,  on  the  plain,  some  shape  adobe  bricks, 

Or  stack  them  dried,  like  gathered  grain,  in  ricks, 

Or  set  on  guard,  are  eyes  for  those  who  toil, 

Or,  axe  in  hand,  go  forth  for  woody  spoil. 


14 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

Some  till  the  land  for  sowing  precious  grain, 

And  wait  in  hope  the  softening  Winter  rain, 

Some  give  their  thoughts  to  more  domestic  cares, 

Or  serve  in  turn,  in  penance,  fasts  and  prayers. 

These  watch  the  flocks — so  did  the  men  of  old — 

And  those  seek  sheep  for  Christ  the  shepherd's  fold, 

Lost  sheep,  whom  wolves  have  scattered  far  and  wide, 

But  sheep  indeed  for  whom  the  Savior  died. 

Oh  men!  make  haste,  and  call  with  winning  voice, 

One  sheep  brought  back  shall  make  all  heaven  rejoice. 

Thus  days  and  weeks  on  hasty  wings  flew  by, 

Till  Winter's  signs  were  spread  athwart  the  sky, 

Till  rains  came  down,  and  earth,  long  parched,  was  cheered, 

And  life  renewed,  on   hill  and  plain  appeared. 

Ah.  spots  are  few  where  even  lovely  May 

Breathes  softer  airs  than  this  December  day. 

SABBATH  SERVICE. 

Tis  Sabbath  now;   in  service  all  unite, 
And  find  therein  true  rest  and  pure  delight. 
The  hour  and  scene  recall  their  early  vows, 
That  day  a  convert  at  their  altar  bows, 
The  soul  first  won,  attracted  to  their  ranks, 
To  learn  their  faith  and  mode  of  giving  thanks. 
While  nature  smiles  and  skies  serenely  beam. 
And  Indian  eyes  in  stoic  wonder  gleam, 
The  ruling  father,  self  possessed  and  calm, 
In  Latin  speech,  reads  this  selected  psalm: 


15 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

"Except  the  Lord  build  up  the  house  begun, 

The  builders'  work  shall  quick  lj'  be  undone; 

Except  the  Lord  the  city  safely  keep, 

In  vain  the  watch  resists  the  call  of  sleep; 

Except  the  Lord  calm  all  your  rising  fears, 

in  vain  your  care,  your  labor,  grief  and  tears. 

Learn,  brothers,  hence,  to  wait  and  work  in  trust 

That  God  in  time  will  lift  us  from  the  dust, 

Will  on  our  work  his  richest  blessings  shower, 

And  make  it  speak  in  witness  of  His  power." 

With  many  words  like  these  he  cheered  and  taught; 

Truth  never  fails,  but  error  comes  to  nought. 

He  scarce  had  ceased,  when  voices  clear  and  strong, 

To  suited  notes,  poured  forth  this  new  made  song, 

Till  echoes  woke  and  rolled  the  clarion  strains, 

A  wave  of  music  sweeping  o'er  the  plains. 

SONG. 

Keen  drop  the  star  shafts  through  the  air, 

Bright  sails  the  moon  above, 
The  arching  skies  such  brilliance  wear, 

They  seem  a  type  of  love. 
And,  mother  earth,  peace  on  thy  hiils, 

Inspires  a  holy  calm; 
Life,  everywhere,  with  rapture  thrills, 

And  sings  its  oft  sung  psalm. 
O  Nature's  God,  in  glory  throned 

Far,  far  above  our  ken, 


10 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

What  wealth  of  beauty  Thou  hast  loaned 
To  aid  the  joy  of  men! 

Since  first  we  chose  this  hallowed  spot, 

And  knelt  hereon  for  prayer. 
Thy  goodness,  Lord,  has  failed  us  not. 

Nor  failed  Thy  tender  care. 
Could  hearts  so  blest,  or  hands  refuse 

To  rear  for  Thee  this  wall? 
No,  toil  is  bliss,  if  but  the  dews 

Of  grace  around  it  fall— 
E'en  as  the  manna,  heavenly  fare 

Fell  in  such  rich  supplies. 
As  on  Want's  night  of  black  despair, 

Made  Plenty's  morning  rise. 

Thy  glorious  name,  O  Christ,  we  bless, 

That  one  lost  soul  is  found, 
The  pledge,  we  trust,  this  wilderness. 

Shall  yet  be  holy  ground. 
In  faith  Thy  promises  we  plcaiJ; 

Give  Zion  large  increase; 
All  hungry  souls  in  mercy  feed; 

All  sin  bound  souls  release. 
Long  may  these  «lowly  rising  towers 

He-echo  songs  of  praise; 
The  harbingers  of  good  in  showers, 

And  near  millennial  days. 


17 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

LIFE   IS    TWO-FOLD. 

Two  lives  have  men;  one  outward,  one  unseen, 

The  first  is  known;  not  so  the  life  within. 

This  fact  apply.     When  institutions  start, 

Two  streams  break  forth,  but  ever  flow  apart: 

This,  still,  and  hidden,  shuns  the  light  of  day, 

While  that,  aloud  goes  talking  on  its  way. 

Unwelcome  grief  that  Pain's  fierce  fire  distills, 

Those  hidden  JO3"S  that  flow  in  quiet  rills. 

Contritions  tear  blent  with  the  secret  sigh, 

Hot  sweat  beads  wrung  from  souls  in  agony, 

Blood  trickling  down  from  wounds  that  never  heal, 

Soft  falling  dews,  the  life  of  blighted  zeal, 

The  pelting  rain  of  Sorrow's  cloudy  hours, 

When,  strong,  unstaid,  come  down  the  chilling  showers, 

These  are  the  springs — though  there  are  scores  besides — 

Of  that  hushed  stream,  which  on  in  darkness  glides 

Unchecked,  while  years  are  counted  slowlj-  o'er. 

To  lose  itself  on  some  Lethean  shore. 

The  other  stream,  e'en  when  its  course  is  done, 

By  written  word  tells  how  its  race  was  run, 

Shows  where  it  grew,  made  strong  by  confluent  flood, 

How  shunned  the  spot  where  opposition  stood; 

Shows  whence  it  took,  and  where  its  burden  dropped. 

How  high  it  rose,  and  where  its  flood-tide  stopped; 

It  wrote  its  life,  then  threw  the  book  away, 

And  lo!  that  book  is  proof  against 


18 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

Who  will  in  ay  read  its  broad  and  open  page 

Not  marred  by  change  nor  blurred  by  growing  age. 

Thoughts,  aims  and  plans  wrought  out  in  stubborn  facts, 

Ennobling  words  the  seeds  of  mighty  acts, 

Broad  acres  tilled,  so  too,  the  acres  cleared, 

Buildings  designed,  and  then  by  labor  reared. 

Vines  taking  root  and  spreading  wide  their  hands. 

Dates,  figs  and  olives  brought  from  other  lands, 

Increasing  wealth  of  roving  flocks  and  herds, 

Triumphs  achieved  alike  by  pens  and  swords, 

The  round  of  toil  wherein  each  brother  strives, 

The  converts  won  and  trained  to  broader  lives, 

These  are  the  springs — though  there  are  scores  besides — 

Of  that  seen  stream  which,  talking,  onward  glides, 

Expands,  and  swells,  and  rolls  with  noisy  rush, 

And,  wanting  room,  gives  either  bank  a  push. 

The  figure  take;  for  Clio's  pen  will  tell 

Whoever  asks,  or  takes  the  time  to  dwell 

Upon  the  growth  the  Mission  tree  attained, 

What  fruit  it  bore,  what  place  and  strength  it  gained, 

Wherein  it  tailed,  how  withered,  and  then  died, 

Because  from  Truth  its  root  was  not  supplied. 

KEPT    FOU    FREEDOM. 

Oh!   had  the  fathers  with  enlightened  eyes 
Discovered  half  the  rich  and  tempting  prize, 
That  lay  concealed  within  this  land  of  gold, 
What  altered  page. its  history  had  unrolled  ! 


19 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

Why  did  they  not?     We  wait  amazed  and  dumb, 
And  hear — ".Not  yet,  its  very  time  had  come." 
A  mind  A 11- wise  locked  here  exhaustless  stores, 
Till  Freedom's  flag  had  waved  along  these  shores, 
And  Freedom's  sons  had  'neath  its  folds  upreared 
Homes  lit  by  love,  by  woman's  presence  cheered, 
Retreats  of  joy,  where  Virtue  builds  her  throne 
A  nation's  hope — a  nation's  corner  stone. 

APOLOGY. 

Slow  moves  my  song;   bui.  do  not  yet  complain; 
The  old-time  car  was  not  our  lightning  train. 
Have  patience  then,  while  our  slow  muse  unrolls, 
And  paints  in  song  the  scenes  of  ancient  scrolls; 
And  though  her  strains  fall  far  less  soft  and  sweet, 
Upon  your  ears  and  souls  that  wait  to  greet, 
Than  those  once  waked  by  fingers  more  on  fire, 
From  Orpheus'  harp  or  bright*~A  polio's  lyre, 
Stiil  follow  on,  and  trust  some  glad  surprise. 
Lurks  where  she  leads  and  waits  her  word,  to  rise 
A  scene  of  beauty  that  with  joy  shall  thrill, 
And  give  reward  for  care,  delay,  and  ill. 

INDIANS. 

A  fading  race!  lo,  such  our  land  contains! 
A  small,  poor  remnant,  now,  alas,  remains! 
Like  picture  dim,  and  faint  in  every  trace, 
Which  wasting  time  will  wholly  soon  efface; 


20 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 


Or,  like  some  trunk  despoiled  of  robe  and  crown. 

Left  all  alone,  its  fellows  smitten  down 

By  woodman's  axe,  it  yields  to  sure  decay, 

A  sau  memorial  of  a  better  day. 

Ye  name  them  SAVAGE — call  them  fierce  and  wild, 

As  if  kind  heaven  had  never  on  thorn  smiled, 

As  if  the  blood  that  warms  their  souls  and  ours, 

Were  gift  to  each  from  strangely  adverse  powers — 

Theirs,  hot  and  stained  by  passions  hell  has  sent, 

Ours,  mild  and  pure  by  heavenly  charms  inblent. 

Ah,  no,  indeed!   the  one  Almighty  Lord, 

Who  rules  all  worlds,  yea.  made  them  by  His  word. 

Knows  man  as  man,  and  in  all"  living  souls, 

Where  life  divine,  a  tide  immortal  rolls, 

His  image  sees,  a  pledge  and  proof  alone 

That,  fatherhood,  the  weakest  child  will  own, 

E'en  when  the  crown  of  innocence  is  lost, 

His  honor  gone,  his  glory  trailed  in  dust. 

His  aims  depraved,  his  destiny  obscured. 

And  he  a  slave  by  sinful  snares  allured. 

Though  prodigal  and  outcast,  man  may  roam. 

His  heaven-born  soul  vvill  whisper  oft  of  home; 

Thus  diamonds  keep,  when  mini  beclouds  their  sheen, 

A  heart  unchanged,  whose  flame  pulse  throbs  unseen. 

True,  brother  men.  your  and  your  father*'  mi<rht 

By  patient  toil  has  won  the  lofty  height, 

Whence,  proud  and  strong,  confessed  a  ruling  race, 

Ye  dare  disdain  these  men  of  darker  face, 


21 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 


Whose  fame  ancestral  in  noon  brightness  shone 

When  your  rude  fathers  were  as  yet  unknown. 

The  fact  is  clear,  and,  certified,  remains, 

Your  Saxori  blood  once  flowed  in  pirates'  veins; 

The  Angles  too,  so  it  is  understood, 

Were  not  averse  to  human  flesh  and  blood. 

Of  all  the  prides,  the  pride  of  race,  I  ween, 

When  weighed  aright  will  lightest  folly  seem. 

You  may  at  length  hold  all  the  Indian  lands, 

May  see  the  last  of  almost  countless  bands 

Of  warriors  brave,  who  felt  as  patriots  feel, 

Who  fought  and  died — their  hearts  as  true  as  steel; — 

You  may  assert  these  tribes  bequeath  no  past, 

Enriched  with  art,  aglow  with  names  to  last; 

Aye,  37ou  may  ask,  what  men  they  gave  to  please, 

Like  Chion  Homer,  or  Praxiteles, 

Whose  songs  will  live,  whose  speaking  canvass  glow 

Till  Time's  swift  stream  shall  cease  its  onward  flow. 

An  answer  comes  from  ruins  that  abound 

From  Panama  to  far  off  Nootka's  Sound, 

And  witness  bears,  to  him  who  wisely  heeds, 

"These  were  the  works  of  men  of  mighty  deeds." 

Oh,  by  your  love  of  country,  home  and  God, 

And  as  ye  dread  Jehovah's  chastening  rod, 

Be  kindly  just,  so  long  as  one  remains, 

Of  all  the  men  whose  names  are  on  your  plains — 

Names,  you  will  use  till  lips  shall  speak  no  more, 

Names,  that  are  stamped  on  this  Pacific  shore, 


un. 


Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

And  hence  must  pass  like  gifts  from  sire  to  son 
While  mountains  stand  and  streams  to  ocean  r 

POSSIBLE    DESTINY    OF    THE    INDIANS. 

l-Tt  might  have  been  /"     Regret  inspires  this  thought. 
What  might  have  been,  before  jour  eyes  is  wrought. 
So  turn  and  look  like  John  the'Patmos  seer, 
And  grasp  with  him  a  .Revelation  clear. 
While  he  beheld,  the  dark  ^Tobe'  grow  bright, 
While  you  behold  the  wondrous  "Is"  shedslight; 
What  God  would  do,  in  vision  met  his  eyes, 
What  God  has  done,  to  you  anew  shall  rise. 
In  mid  Pacific,  on  Hawaiian  isles, 
Behold  the  change!  Lo,  moral  beauty  smiles, 
The  fruit  of  toil  for  men  all  ripe  for  woe. 
Sunk  deep  in  sin—say,  are  there  depths  below?— 
To  them,  exposed.  Love  sent  the  hand  of  Toil, 
And  nerved  it  well  to  save  the  precious  spoil; 
Unwearied,  strong,  sublimest  deed  it  wrought 
And  won  the  field  though  Error's  legions  fought. 
It  broke  the  chains  from  marred  and  helpless  "souls, 
Brought  near  the  Christ  who  heals,  redeems,  controls; 
His  gospel  dropped  whose  sweet  evangel  word 
Repeats  ^the  song  at  Bethlehem  Judah  heard, 
"From  highest  thrones  to  God  be  glory  given, 
Peace  flows  to  earth  and  grace  lifts  man  to  heaven." 
Aye  more,  for  know,  the  Gospel  always  brings, 
Angelic  bands  with  blessings  on  their  wings, 


23 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 


Which,  scattered,  cheer,  like  timely  Summer  showers; 

Make  deserts  bloom,  and  even  mountain  towers 

Eejoiceand  shout  their  glad  responsive  notes 

To  valley  strains,  which  ether  upward  floats. 

Look  then,  and  count!     Those  happy  Christian  homes, 

Where  love  presides  and  bliss  of  Eden  comes, — 

Those  hallowed  courts  inscribed  "To  Truth  alone" 

Whence  prayer  and  praise  are  winged  for  Mercy's  throne,— 

Then  Law's  abode  where  power  and  justice  meet, 

And  better  still,  3-011  orphans'  safe  retreat, — 

Those  honored  halls  whence  Learning  sends  her  gifts,— 

That  giant  press,  which,  like  Briareus  lifts 

Its  hundred  hands,  and  lo,  its  treasures  fall 

In  flakes,  like  snow,  by  every  cot  arid  hall, — 

Yon  palace  home  reared  up  not  far  away, 

For  minds  in  night  deprived  of  reason's  ray, — 

That  mart  of  trade  where  commerce  brings  her  spoils, — 

Those  whirring  wheels,  invention's  well-laid  toils, — 

These  curious  works  that  tireless  Art  combines, 

And  wonders  too  that  star-eyed  Genius  finds, — 

Such  are  the  gifts  the  glorious  Gospel  leaves 

Wherever  borne,  if  man  its  truth  believes. 

Like  blessings  now  might  cheer  the  red  man's  fate 

Had  help  and  hope  not  come,  alas,  so  late, 

For,  where  the  Word,  translated,  taught  and  preached. 

With  light  and  life  has  tribe  or  nation  reached, 

Of  any  zone,  from  Arctic  ice  and  snows 

To  tropics  plains,  where  endless  summer  glows, 


24 

G-limpses  of  San  Diego. 

It  does  transform;  it  is  the  rod  of  strength. 
That  bows  all  wills  and  wins  all  hearts  at  length. 
In  Peter's  hand,  it  stirred  the  Gentile  world, 
Paul  bore  it  on  where  Home  her  flag  unfurled, 
The  Monk  of  Erfurth,  found  it,  made  it  free; 
All  Europe  shook  from  Black  to  Irish  Sea. 
Your  Brainard  held  ii,  red  men  felt  us  charm, 
Where  Cary  raised  it.  Buddha  knew  alarm. 
Where  Marty n  clasped  it,  dyinir  in  his  youth, 
The  Moslem  faith  gives  way  before  the  truth  ; 
Not  guarded  China  can  its  power  withstand, 
Nor  sleep  unmoved  the  negroes'  ill  starred  land. 
Oh,  everywhere,  it  proves  itself  the  rod, 
That  turns  the  nations  to  the  Son  of  (iod. 

FAILURE. 

The  mission  fathers  learned  not  thus  the  art 
Of  preaching  Christ,  whose  grace  renews  the  heart, 
Nor  taught  that  man,  redeemed  for  worlds  of  bliss, 
Has  right  divine  to  all  he  is  in   this. 
By  poor  half  truths,  false  lights  amid  the  storm, 
The}7  stirred  to  fear,  enslaved  by  chains  of  form, 
Used  hard  brute  force  to  curb  the  Indian    will, 
His  freedom  took,  but  left  him  Indian  still. 
By  such  misrule,  his  might  of  manhood   lost — 
A  helmless  ship,  by  tides  and  tempests  tossed, 
Oppressed,  cast  down,  bewildered  more  and  more, 
He  lay  a  wreck  abandoned  on  the  shore; 


Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

While  near  and  far  are  ruins  that  proclaim 
The  mission  system  but  a  sounding  name — 
A  failure, — this,  no  doubt,  and  something  worse, 
A  giant  evil,  proved  a  blighting  curse, 


MORAL    EARTHQUAKE   AND   RESULTS. 

As  when  pent  force  breaks  out  in  earthquake  shocks, 

Upturns  the  hills,  hurls  down  huge  mountain  rocks, 

Drinks  rivers  dry  and  sea-girt  islands  lifts, 

Scoops  out  deep  caves  and  joins  their  yawning  rifts, 

Turns  life  to  death,  sweeps  cities  out  of  sight, 

Uncovers  mines  and  brings  their  wealth  to  light, 

So  there  are  times  when  forces  of  the  soul 

Long  held  in  check  shake  off  and  spurn  control, 

Take  voice  and  shout,  "attend,  oh  earth,  our  cry, 

Away  the  Past,  its  trammels  we  defy, 

We  drive  blind  Change,  our  plow-share  where  we  will, 

Nor  stay  our  course  at  shout  of  'good'  or  'ill,' 

Break  up  repose  and  roll  dead  issues  back 

And  leave  their  ruins  sirewe'd  along  our  track." 

Such  moral  earthquake,  merciless  and  strong, 

From  sea  to  sea,  from  Mexico,  along 

The  mountain  crags,  o'er  plain  and  deserts  drear, 

Surged  on  its  way,  while  men  stood  dumb  with  fear. 

Loud  grew  the  din;  the  halls  of  Congress  shook; 

Maine  felt  the  jar  in  her  remotest  nook; 

The  sleeping  prairies  of  the  mighty  West, 

Awoke,  amazed,  and  their  alarm  confessed. 


26: 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

The  tremor  ran  to  Southern  everglade, 

O'erleaped  the  streams,  the  grand  highways  of  trade, 

Tracked  forests  dense,  and  swept  through  tangled  swamps, 

And  roused  the  woodmen  in  their  quiet  camps. 

The  nation  quaked;  its  strongest  pillars  rocked; 

Religion  wept;  philanthropy  was  shocked;  •+- 

The  wise  and  good  had  prayed  for  slavery's  end, 

But  War  had  come  arrayed  as  slavery's  friend. 

Swift  rolls  his  car;  shrill  sounds  his  bu^le  blast; 

The  sons  of  Mars  come  gathering  thick  and  fast; — 

Shame!  freedom's  flag  outspread  above  them  waves, 

But  they  must  fight  to  make  more  room  for  slaves. 

It  was  not  so;  and  men  may  well  rejoice, 

God  spoils  their  plans  and  brings  to  naught  their  choice; 

His  eye  of  flame  their  darkest  scheming  scans, 

And  with  His  good,  inweaves  their  evil  plans. 

The  shock  passed  by.     The  war- vexed  land  had  rest. 

Peace  came  again;  when  lo,  at  her  behest, 

Two  empire  States  increased  the  sister  band: 

One  wild  and  wide  beside  the  Bio  Grande; 

One  rich  and  vast  beyond  Sierras'  snows, 

And  both  to  bloom  with  freedom's  fadeless  rose. 

ADIEU    TO    THE   PAST. 

Adieu  now  the  past,  let  its  scenes  drop  from  view, 
Farewell  to  the  old,  it  is  time  for  the  new; 
E'en  a  glance  at  the  years  that  fill  the  broad  space 
Between  "forty-nine"  and  that  year  of  God's  grace, 


27- 
Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

Then  making  its  draft  on  the  treasures  of  time 
To  bless  every  zone  and  enrich  every  clime, 
That  saw  life  awake  and  astir  on  the  shore 
Of  this  beautiful  Bay  as  never  before, 
Would  lead  us  too  far,  and  delay  us  too  long, 
And  lengthen  too  much  the  thin  web  of  our  song; 
So,  fly  in  your  thoughts  Irom  the  "then"  to  the  "now," 
Our  Muse  making  haste  to  accomplish  her  vow — 
Unrolling  her  scroll  and  uplifting  to  gaze, 
Events  that  are  sure  in  the  near  future  days. 

SEVEN    YEARS    AGO. 

You  query,  where  are  we?     If  any  don't  know, 

8ub  rosa,  I  whisper,  in  San  Diego: — 

Not  the  same,  bear  in  mind,  that  your  eyes  now  behold, 

A  hopeful  young  damsel,  not  shy  and  not  bold, 

Attractive  for  beauty  of  form  and  of  face, 

Improving  each  day  in  true  womanly  grace, 

Not  faultless,  we  grant,  yet  entwining  with  care, 

All  the  virtues  that  shine  into  character  fair; 

Not  fitful,  not  false,  nor  yet  vain  of  her  wealth, 

But  mild  like  the  climate  and  blooming  with  health; 

Her  name  spreading  far  and  her  future  made  sure, 

Her  fame  growing  bright,  not  to  fade  but  endure. 

To  see  her  as  then  you  must  brush  from  her  brow, 

All  garlands  of  beauty  adorning  her  now, 

Her  homes  and  her  stores  you  must  sweep  out  of  sight, 

Her  churches  and  schools  cover  up  as  with  night, 


28 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

Her  court  house  and  halls  from  their  site  you  must  clear, 
Her  banks  and  hotels  must  alike  disappear, 
Her  streets  you  must  blot  and  her  gardens  erase, 
Then  chollas  and  brushwood  for  quail  haunts  replace. 
Where  rabbits,  and  hares,  and  the  heron  unscared, 
With  blackbirds  and  sparrows  the  solitude  shared. 
This  picture  preserve  for  its  outlines  are  true; 
And  keep  it  in  mind  thatj^our  city  is  new, 
Having  gained  in  six  years  its  present  estate, 
Through  fortunes  adverse  and  unfavoring  fate; 
Each  year  gaining  strength,  showing  vigor  unstaid — 
Repressed,  but  not  killed  by  her  railroad  delayed, 
Assured  that  her  sun  is  fast  climbing  the  sky 
Consuming  all  clouds  by  the  flame  of  its  eye. 


MIND    AND    ENTERPRISE. 


What  city,  self-risen,  has  history  shown? 

Unaided,  what  enterprise  forward  has  gone? 

Does  not  each  tell  of  mind  evolving  its  plan, 

Into  crystalized  thought  that  must  magnify  man? 

For  proof  in  repl}*,  no  wide  search  need  be  made 

Through  dust-covered  tomes  arid  on  tablets  that  fade, 

On  pillars  and  temples  that  stand  and  proclaim 

The  might  that  upreared  them  and  gave  them  to  fame 

Nor  yet  among  ruins  where  riots  decay 

In  glories  despoiled,  having  beauty  its  prey. 


Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 


A.    E.    HORTON. 

Already,  unsought,  to  my  mind  there  has  come, 
A  living  example  right  here  at  our  home. 
His  name,  do  you  ask  me,  expecting  reply? 
A  Yankee,  you  know,  must  the  Yankee  trick  try, 
And  question  the  asker,  which  same  I  will  do, 
Hurling  point  after  point  like  arrows  at  you. 
When  your  section  of  State  was  almost  unknown. 
Who  founded  your  city  and  toiled  all  alone? 
Standing  firm  at  his  post,  who  wrought  with  a  will, 
Undaunted  by  taunts  from  the  prophets  of  ill? 
Who  cherished  the  place,  and  with  unresting  care 
Watched  over  its  needs,  accepting  bis  share 
Of  burdens  imposed — whether  labor  or  gold, 
Content  to  expend  and  the  city  unfold — 
To  claim  a  high  rank  on  the  ground  of  its  worth, 
And  lift  its  fair  brow  to  the  eyes  of  the  earth? 
Who  has  stood  at  the  front  ever  looking  right  on, 
With  progress  his  watchword  till  triumph  is  won? 
Who  waits  for  reward  with  a  patience  sublime, 
Having  built  to  his  loss  in  advance  of  his  time? 
Hold,  hold,  do  you  cry,  saying  question  no  more,— 
Write  down  the  name  HORTON  with  bold  underscore, 
Thus  written  uplift  it  to  meet  the  world's  gaze, 
Entwine  it  with  garlands  of  well  deserved  praise, 
Yea,  give  it,  in  honor,  high  up  on  the  page, 
A  place  with  "first  things,"  that  are  richer  for  age. 


Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 


APPEAL. 

Oh,  thriving  young  city!  thy  patron,  St.  Jame8, 
A  gospel  of  work  and  of  patience  proclaims; 
Accept  his  good  message;  press  on  in  thy  race; 
Fear  riot  opposition;  shun  every  disgrace; 
Can  fierce  tires  of  trial  thy  true  worth  destroy? 
Gold  rises  in  value  refined  from  alloy: 
Defeat  of  to-day  may  not  cloud  thy  to  morrow, 
Oft  sweetest  of  bliss  is  born  of  deep  sorrow; 
So,  firm  as  thy  Loma,  maintain  thy  design, 
Undiinmed,  like  her  beacon,  as  faithfully  shine, — 
Thy  light  beaming  clear  both  to  guide  and  to  bless, 
Sending  hope  to  despair,  relief  to  distress. 


RESPONSE. 

"  I  will,"  in  soft  whisper,  the  city  replies; 

"  My  vow  is  recorded — bear  witness  ye  skies; — 

My  life  shall  re  echo  the  word  of  my  saint, 

1  will  not  by  trials  be  stirred  to  complaint, 

Holding  worth  as  my  aim  1  will  cherish  the  pure, 

Sham  and  shoddy  refuse,  choosing  things  that  endure; 

The  base  I  will  spurn,  yea,  all  meanness  despise, 

.Refinement  approve,  true  excellence  prize, 

To  learning  and  art  give  a  favoring  hand, 

And  welcome  devotion  to  dwell  in  the  land." 


31 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

SURROUNDINGS. 

Brave  words  thou  hast  spoken;  they  mirror  thy  heart, 
Aglow  in  its  courage,  for  acting  thy  part; 
They  prove  that  the  summons  thy  waiting  ears  heard, 
Has  roused  thy  best  nature,  its  energies  stirred; 
Has  nerved  thy  right  hand  to  sow  marvelous  change 
By  bay-side,  on  mesa,  and  far  mountain  range, 
Producing  such  beauty  as  everywhere  glows, 
When  deserts  unsightly  bloom  fair  as  the  rose. 
Thy  zeal  and  decision,  and  well  expressed  choice. 
Inspire  thy  surroundings  and  make  them  rejoice; 
They  come  with  their  greetings;  they  proffer  thee  aid; 
Their  strength  is  thy  glory,  around  thee  arrayed; 
Thy  heralds,  and  helpers,  and  subjects  well  known, 
They  give  thee  a  kingdom  and  build  thee  a  throne. 


THE   PACIFIC   SPEAKS. 

Then  spake  the  Pacific  in  varying  tones, 

Now  whisper  of  zephyr,  now  thunder's  loud  moans, 

"  Eemember,fair  city,  my  breeze-laden  wings 

Shall  waft  you  the  the  virtue  of  Ponce  Leon's  springs; 

Wild  waves  I  will  hush;  my  fierce  tempests  allay, 

And  show,  by  the  calm,  your  appointed  high -way, 

Direct  from  your  door  to  the  hoary  old  East 

Now  hailing" its  day  dawn,  from  night  gloom  released." 


32 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

HARBOR. 

The  harbor  came  next;  you  might  know  that  its  speech 

Would  flow  from  its  mouth,  like  the  tide  on  the  beach, 

In  cool,  liquid  words,  each  with  meaning  well  fraught, 

Transparent  and  clear  with  deep  currents  of  thought. 

"You  ma}7  call  me  your  own,  I  am  yours  to  command, 

(rive  only  a  look  or  a  wave  of  your  hand, 

Your  ships  I  will  shield  from  all  danger  and  harm, 

And  fold  them  to  rest  on  my  Bay's  brawny  arm; — 

Behold  it,  your  sickle  abiding  its  time, 

To  reap  ripened  grain  from  the  fields  of  each  clime." 

CLIMATE. 

The  message  of  air  way  not  uttered  by  word, 

A  breath  it  swept  by  like  the  gleam  of  a  sword; 

Its  touch  vvas  electric  and  left  as  it  passed 

The  city  possessed  of  a  friend  tried  anj  fast, 

To  whom  hastening  on,  "I  bless  you,"  she  said, 

"  Not  only  with  voice,  but  with  heart  and  with  head. 

A  wing  never  folded  ye  drop  me  your  gifts, 

As  night  on  the  meadows  its  dew-treasure  eifts. 

Oh,  hover  above  me — your  welcome  is  sure — 

Strike  never  more  fiercely,  come  never  less  pure." 

OTHERS. 

Still  others  are  waiting  confidingly  near, 
And  ask,  favored  city,  your  listening  ear, 


Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

To  pledge  their  devotion  unstinted  and  true; 

Ah,  foes  may  be  many, — your  Mends  are  not  few. 

The  clear  arching  sky  speaks  by  loveliest  blue, 

By  beauty,  the  moon,  rising  full-orbed  to  view; 

From  far  away  thrones,  kingly  stars  smile  their  light, 

The  islands,  by  mirage,  in  greeting  unite;— 

Do  sea-nymphs  provide  them  such  marvelous  dress, 

And  make  them  majestic  in  wild  playfulness? 

Yon  sentinel-mountains — grand  hosts  of  the  Lord — 

Stretch  out  their  huge  arms,  your  watch  and  your  ward, 

And  often  at  sunrise,  or  daylight's  decline 

Enchant  you  with  visions  scarce  less  than  divine, 

Not  GJobelin  hues  blent  for  royalty's  eyes, 

Were  fairer  to  sight,  or  of  brillianter  dyes. 

PROPHECY. 

When  more  of  thy  friends  pledged  alike  to  thine  aid, 
Had  uttered  their  vow,  and  their  offerings  laid 
Eare  gifts  on  thy  altar — the  pledge  and  the  proof 
That  their  to  thy  life  is  as  warp  to  the  woof, 
Our  Muse  quite  enraptured  by  what  she  had  heard, 
And,  moved  by  the  breathing  of  prophecy,  stirred, 
Saw  thy  future  outspread,  take  form  and  grow  clear, 
Then  opened  her  lips  and  thus  spake  as  a  seer: 
;c  With  horoscope  lifted,  I  scan  thy  far  years; 
Will  read  thee  their  record,  for  plain  it  appears, 
At  least  as  it  will  be,  if  thou  dost  not  shun 
The  struggle  whence  triumph  by  toil  must  be  won. 


Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

Thy  rank  is  assured  and  it  will  be  confessed, 

Detraction  will  cease  —  thy  wrongs  be  redressed, 

The  shadows  around  thee  shall  vanish  like  mist, 

Thy  growth,  predetermined,  no  arm  can  resist; 

The  Jericho  walls  that  have  girt  thee  about 

Shall  acknowledge  thy  faith  and  fall  at  thy  shout, 

Shall  yield  thee  their  riches  confessing  thy  might 

But  voices  the  claim  of  thy  sure  vested  right. 

A  highwajT  of  nations  must  pass  at  thy  door; 

All  lands  must  in  tribute  spread  wider  thy  power, 

And,  taught  by  thy  word,  cheered  and  blessed  by  thy  light, 

Shall  break  from  their  bondage  and  flee  from  their  night." 


OUR   NATION. 

God  sifted  the  nations;  and  then  to  complete 

His  far-reaching  plan  of  grain  from  clean  wheat, 

He  chose  virgin  soil,  brought  appliances  rare, 

Turned  over  the  fallow  and  sowed  it  with  care, 

Then  patiently  waited  till  germs  should  appear, 

As  patiently  waited  for  corn  in  the  ear. 

How  precious  that  harvest  words  fail  me  to  tell! 

Its  reapers  in  song  sounded  tyranny's  knell, 

Their  paBon  of  freedom  waked  echoing  tones 

That  shook  to  their  downfall  earth's  crime-guarded  thrones. 

Behold  our  Republic!     Its  banner  unfurled, 

Sent  strength  to  the  weak  all  over  the  world. 

Hark!     The  century  shout.     It  is  harvest  again! 

Ho,  reapers  afield!  forty  millions  of  men! 


35 

Glimpses  of  San  Diego. 

RESPONSIVE    ECHOES. 

Plymouth  Bock  is  afar,  so  too  Bunker  Hill, 
But  their  image  is  here.     Their  memories  thrill 
Every  chord  of  our  souls.      Bright  names  ye  are  ours, 
And  ages  to  come  shall  entwine  you  with  flowers. 
Ho,   Warren  arid  Ledyard!    Montgomery  too! 
Ho,   Kalb  and  Pulaski!    the  warder  means  you! 
The  flag  that  ye  died  for  in  glory  still  waves; 
Beside  the  Pacific  are  tears  for  your  graves. 

CONCLUSION, 

O  city  of  nations!  "good  morn  to  thy  fame," 
May  error  not  cloud  the  bright  sky  of  thy  name! 
New  England  will  give  thee  her  zeal  for  the  right, 
The  West  will  contribute  her  ardor  and  might, 
The  South  will  bequeath  thee  the  grace  of  her  ways; 
Up!  prove  a  world's  blessing!     On!   win  a  world's  praise! 
Spread  out  to  all  nations  thy  peace  laden  wings, 
And  fail  net  to  honor  the  KING  OF  THE  KINGS. 


